


Pet to Prey

by Oceans_Away



Series: Lenector Weekend 2020 [1]
Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: BDSM, Blood Kink, Blood Play, Bondage, Dom/sub, F/M, Femdom, Hector is in love, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Just going ham on a guy strapped to a table, Kink, LenectorWeekend2020, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex with biting, This isn't what the council room should be used for, Vampire SMut - Freeform, bites
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:21:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27742168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oceans_Away/pseuds/Oceans_Away
Summary: As the expansion of Styria continues successfully, Hector has fallen deeper into his relationship with Lenore. One night, he asks why she has never bitten him, or rather, would she. Lenore is only too happy to introduce him to this part of a vampiric sex life.Written forLenector Weekend 2020, organised by the wonderfulBakedTofu. Day 1: Bites.[NB: I've tagged this blood play, since blood-drinking is the central theme, but it's very much a fantasy version, using vampirism as the vehicle, rather than an accurate portrayal. I did some reading around, but don't come from a place of significant knowledge about this area of kink, so have dropped a resource in the end notes.][CW: Hector is restrained and gagged during the scene. Blood.]Song:Drink You Sober, Bitter:Sweet
Relationships: Hector/Lenore (Castlevania)
Series: Lenector Weekend 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2029348
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20





	Pet to Prey

“Can I ask you a question?” 

Hector sat on the edge of the bed, the sheets pooling lazily around him and the dim light warm on his bare, tan skin. Lenore stood with her foot up on his thigh, fastening her dress, as he laced her boot, her skirts drawn up to her hip to exhibit the balletic shape of her leg.

“Of course, Pet,” Lenore replied.

Hector rubbed his lips together, then pushed himself to speak. “Why have you never bitten me?”

Lenore’s fingers halted on her cuff. She cocked her head and pondered for a moment. Hector tugged her boot secure and stroked absent-mindedly around her calf, waiting.

“I suppose,” she said after a pause, “that’s not what I use you for. Humans will eat cattle but not puppies, yes? Puppies are pets, they’re individuals, they’re special. Feeding from you makes you less of a person.”

Hector’s cheeks prickled. He stroked her thigh with a little more pressure. “I might like that.”

Lenore looked at him with glittering eyes.

Hector sucked his tongue a little nervously, then he tilted forward and nuzzled the inside of her thigh. “Aren’t you ever tempted though?” He asked in a low, slightly tremulous voice. “Don’t I ever stir that vampire hunger?”

The corner of Lenore’s mouth twisted. She leaned towards him, her heel digging sharply into his lap. “You’re playing with fire, Pretty Boy.”

Hector shuddered, her warning voice like hot water pouring down his spine. He rocked forward, pressed his mouth to her thigh, and sighed into it. “Then burn me.”

Lenore laughed and kicked his chest. He fell like a leaf back onto the bed. She crawled over him, caging him in her limbs and pinning his wrists. She grinned down at him, flashing the keen points of her scimitar fangs. Hector’s breath left him. She leaned down and brushed her lips over his. The lightest touch went through his body violently. She kissed his cheek, then ran her lips down his throat. His heart began to pound. It took so little.

“Are you asking why I’ve never bitten you? Or are you asking if I would?” she whispered dangerously into his ear.

Hector’s cock pulsed. His voice came in a rasp. “The second one.”

“So, what you’re doing is asking Mummy for a new treat?”

He gulped, blushing furiously. “I suppose so?”

“Yes or no?”

“Yes.”

Lenore hummed into his ear, her breath tickling him. “And how do we do that?”

“Please. Please, bite me.” His pulse was racing now, thudding in his wrists under her strong grip. He was muddled by her scent and the storm of images his mind had been throwing at him for days, as he’d worked up the courage to ask this.

She flickered her tongue on his throat. “Say please one more time. I like it.”

Hector moaned and nuzzled into the hollow beneath her jaw. “Please,” he breathed. “Please. I want to know how it feels. I want it written in my skin that I belong to you.”

Lenore hummed again. She sounded happy, it made him glow. “Alright, since you’re such a good boy.” She raised and kissed his forehead, then the tip of his nose. “Tomorrow night, go to the council room.”

Hector blinked, his eyes going round and bereft. “Tomorrow?”

She chuckled. “Tomorrow.”

“But…” 

Lenore raised an eyebrow sternly and tightened her grip on his wrists. 

He flushed dusky in shame and shrank into the bed beneath her. “I hate waiting for you.” He admitted out of the corner of his mouth.

Lenore licked her teeth. “Tough. I want your blood pumping,  _ Prey _ .”

Hector squirmed. The word slinked through him in a mix of fear and pleasure. His cock ached. He suddenly felt his nakedness as if he was on fire. Lenore dipped to his throat again. She opened her mouth on him and pressed her teeth lightly into his neck, not breaking the skin. Just. Hector tensed, going still as a possum. She dragged the point of one canine down the track of his vein, drawing a long, hoarse moan from him. His eyes rolled up into his head. 

She stood swiftly. He rushed cold and hugged his body. His moan turned into a sulky whine. 

Lenore shook out her skirts and finished arranging her dress. She flicked a callous grin at his mournful expression, then tripped merrily towards the door, blowing a kiss over her shoulder. “Until tomorrow, Pet.”

Hector rolled heavily onto his side and pouted at the toss of her hair vanishing out of the door. 

Aching and hot and intrigued, tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

*

Lenore trailed her finger over her lips and smiled at her handiwork. Hector lay starfish on the round, glass table in the centre of the council room, shackled by his wrists and ankles to the table legs. He was sprawled naked over the large, vellum map detailing Styria’s planned expansion. The etched lines of muscle definition, freckles, and old scars over his long, lithe body ran into the lines of borders, features, and curling place names. He looked like part of the conquered terrain, with his eager, frightened face and helplessly spread legs. 

“You are beautiful, Pet,” Lenore said.

His chest flushed, his eyes glimmering the colour of love-in-a-mist flowers. 

“Are you afraid?” she asked coolly.

“A little,” he answered with a croak in his voice.

“Good.” She stepped to the table edge and perched on it, crossing her legs. She stroked him softly from his heart to his belly button. “It spices the blood.” She bent to his ear and whispered. “I can smell it. Like star anise.”

Hector shifted under her touch, his hips moving up needily. She warmed. He was so pleasantly easy.

She watched his eyes fall over her body. She had scooped her hair and pinned it high on her head, exposing the flow of her neck into her shoulders and giving her the look of a lit, white-wax candle. She had discarded the lace and satin of her underwear, (didn’t want it to stain after all), and was caged in a thin, black, leather harness, inking her skin. Hector’s gaze traced the shapes it made in her flesh. His brow crumpled and his lip trembled at the pink points of her nipples and the smooth curve of her spine, the glimmering light on her thigh and the shadow cupping her breasts. Each touch with his gaze cloaked her in another layer of warmth. She slid fully onto the table and rotated to sling her leg over him. She prowled over him on all fours. The heat coming off him was incredible, anticipation pulsing from his body in intoxicating waves. He was pure heat made solid, like igneous rock. 

She reached out to the edge of the table and picked up a bar gag she’d brought with the wrist and ankle restraints. She dangled it over Hector’s face. He pressed his lips together and looked reluctant. She knew he liked it when she made him talk. 

“Trust me, Pet, you want this,” she said, half reassuring and half teasing. “This will hurt and I don’t want you biting your tongue.”

“I can handle a little pain.” Hector said shyly.

“Exactly, Sweetheart.” Lenore dipped and nipped his chin. “A little pain. Now, open up.” 

She held the tough, rubber bar horizontal and nudged it to his lips. He sucked his lips in with a defiant, rueful look. She hissed at him and pushed the bar against his mouth. He opened it with a jerk of his head, like cats do when having their teeth inspected. She fitted the bar snugly between his teeth and buckled it at the back of his head. It stretched his mouth into a comedic, forced grin, under displeased, blazing blue eyes. 

“Feel good?” Lenore asked with a smirk.

Hector grumbled unintelligibly.

“Excellent,” she chuckled. “And how about… now?” She rocked back and settled herself across his pelvis, the folds of her pussy cushioning around his cock. He swelled against her instantly, sending a flurry of pleasure into her abdomen. 

He mumbled in a strained tone around the gag.

“Mmm, good,” Lenore purred, shifting herself into a comfortable position and enjoying the bubbly feeling in her stomach, as Hector writhed under tease. 

She closed his waist between her thighs. His heat coursed up her delightfully. She began to massage his torso and the rise of his biceps, pulled taut by the restraints stretching his arms overhead. Working the forge had hardened his muscles. She pressed deeply into them and kneaded them supple, like dough. His eyes fluttered. He sighed. He nudged his hips up, his cock sliding beneath her and beckoning her wet. She pinched his nipple. The way the gag muffled his groans was definitely not going to stop being funny. 

“So, Hector,” she spoke with a relaxed lilt, the rhythmic rubbing of his body easing her own tension after long hours’ work on a knot in Carmilla’s scheme. “You want me to bite you.”

Hector nodded, eyes widening.

“You want me to mark you, to brand you. You want me to tear into that boyish beauty of yours, make you meat, make you mine.”

Hector gnawed on the bar, like a fox.

“It’s going to hurt, Little One. Really hurt. You think you’ve had pain. It isn’t like anything else. It’s going to take all your endurance. It’s going to leave you in ruins. It’s going to echo in you for days.”

Hector quivered between her thighs. She held him tighter, his nervousness humming in her flesh. Her mouth was watering, she could almost taste him. Whenever she sucked on his skin, she could always almost taste his blood through his herbs and iron flavour, its sweet, metallic aroma teasing the tip of her tongue. Hector thought of himself as hardly alive, as living on the barrier to death, cutting slits in the veil between Hell and Earth. But he was life itself. He took death in his hands and reversed it. He transformed damnation into eternal love, his night creatures revived and rescued and sustained by devotion. As he was. To Lenore, Hector’s blood was essence, ichor, ether. She ran her tongue over her lips. He whimpered musically in his throat.

She ran her hands to his hair and teased the roots. He pushed into her touch. She cupped his face, holding him like a baby bird. “When a vampire feeds, she generally pierces the jugular vein or the carotid artery. Venal blood is more bitter and arterial more sweet, so it depends what she’s in the mood for” She ran her thumbs down the pulse points on Hector’s neck, pressing, so his breath wheezed. “The throat is favoured because it’s closest to the heart, it’s freshest, hottest. And, of course, the prey can’t struggle.” 

She felt Hector pulse against her clit. She leaned forward, stroking up his arms, hovering her breasts over his mouth. He crunched his abs to suck her nipple, but was prevented by the gag. He huffed out through his nose and rubbed his cheek on her, like a kitten. 

She tickled the insides of his wrists, just below the cuffs. “Then there’s the brachial artery and basilic vein. This is the bite that looks most romantic, in my opinion. And it’s a thinner flow, so you can really make it last, if you’re careful.” She sank away from his mouth, pulling a sigh from him, and wriggled a little on his cock. Warm droplets made it slick between them. She reached behind her and ran her fingertips up the inside of his thigh, making him shiver. “And our final favourite spot is the femoral. This one is for the real sadist, putting her mouth so close to the prey’s pleasure and watching them squirm as they’re drained.” She slid her hand higher and cupped his balls, palming them, squeezing them lightly, and hooking her index to massage his perineum. 

Hector’s breathing turned rapid. He swelled deeper into her folds. She fizzed with pleasure, rocking on him, her body going loose. His pulse had thrummed excitedly on her fingertips in all three touches. It made her hungry. He looked like a prize cut at the butcher’s.

“But, of course, Pretty Boy,” she continued, a happy husk leaking into her steady voice, “I want to keep you hail and hearty and of use. So I won’t be piercing any of those tonight. But I will be biting near them, and it is extremely important that you don’t fidget, or my teeth might stray.” She squeezed his balls hard. He gasped and jolted up, spiking her with desire. She smiled like a lynx. “Are you ready?”

Hector’s chest bounced with shallow, jubilant breath. His usually cool gaze was swirling with frantic excitement. He nodded, his crinkled hair kissing his temples. 

Lenore eased her hand from his balls and rubbed hard over his torso, bringing his blood to the surface. The scent of it ghosted into her senses. It focused her mind, honing in on him, like a shark. She rubbed his chest rosy, then folded herself over him and pressed her lips around his nipple. She sucked, the point rising and tickling her tongue. Hector’s moan ribboned down her spine. She released him with a teasing lick, then tilted to fit her jaws just beneath the dark pip. She drew back her lips. And bit. 

Hector gasped, jabbing her clit with his hardness again. She wrapped her fingers around his firm biceps and held him still. His blood trickled over her tongue. It electrified her. It was so hot it almost burned, and there was a strange, moreish flavour to it, like poppy seed. The only seed that sprouts where blood has been spilled. She smiled against his skin and sucked from the pin-prick wound. She could feel his hammering heart on the tip of her tongue. 

She sat straight again, running her thumb over the dark drop on her lip. Hector’s cheeks glowed, his eyes bright. There was a fine, crimson crescent under his nipple, as if it were the sun emerging from an eclipse. 

She wet her lip. She sank again. She spiralled her tongue around his other nipple, supping on the salt of sweat blooming on his skin, as he panted with the pleasure. She pricked the skin around his nipple and sucked from four tiny wounds. He whined and writhed. She looped her arms under him to hold him close and clamped him with her thighs. She twisted her mouth to open the wounds wider. She let the blood leak over his nipple, then lapped it up greedily with her tongue. He let out a long, shuddering moan. 

She gave him an affectionate, possessive squeeze, and straightened again, a thin thread of blood warm on her chin. She let it drizzle down and splash onto his sternum. He was chewing the rubber gag, like a dog with a bone.

“More?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

Hector husked and nodded eagerly. She chuckled. She had barely begun and he was already enraptured. God, wasn’t he just the best fun she’d had in decades? 

She slid up to straddle his chest, leaving a smear of her scented wetness over his abs. Her clit hummed with want, as it left the press of his cock. She directed the want into her blood thirst, and bent over him to take his bicep into her mouth. She bit harder here, like she was tearing into a steak. Hector winced, a high sound ripped out of him. She saw his fist clench. His muscle tensed and filled her mouth. She sank her teeth deeper and took her first real swallow of his blood. The essence of liquorice adrenaline zinged on her taste buds and gummed like melted chocolate in her throat. A current of power crackled in her fingertips. She relinquished him and placed her palms either side of his face. Blood ran like ink from his arm and filled a river separating two regions on the map under him. 

She slid back over his cock, rolling her shoulders at the press of pleasure. She rubbed her lips together, painting them red. She bobbed down and kissed his cheek, leaving a pretty, heart-shaped, scarlet print. He whimpered like a puppy and raised his chin to kiss her. He chomped in frustration on the gag. She giggled and rocked forward and buried his face in her breasts. Soft stimulation fluttered over her skin, as he nuzzled around her flesh, puckering his lower lip and padding it to her. 

“You are a darling.”

He grumbled and wriggled, clinking the restraints. She rocked back and rapped his cheek, smudging her lip print. He flinched and blinked in bewilderment. 

“I said don’t fidget.”

He glared at her, his stern brow shadowing his butane eyes. How was he this intense  _ and  _ this adorable? She tutted at him with mock sympathy and stroked his hair. 

“You are delicious, Pet.”

He blushed deeply.

“I don’t think I’m going to be able to get enough of you.”

His blush deepened, the colour of treacle. 

Lenore beamed. Hector’s wonderful, innocent openness was so much more pronounced with the spilling of his blood. It epitomised his generosity. All he wanted was to give - it was this beautiful, dangerous thing about him - and now he was even letting her take his life force. 

She fell to his body and began to bite him with more ferocity. She split the skin of his flank, his abs, his chest, his hip, his shoulder. She peppered his torso in red crescents, as if scattering him with rose petals. Sometimes she barely grazed him, just nibbling at the surface. Sometimes she sank her fangs deep, his taut flesh puncturing with a satisfying release, like slitting open a letter or cutting a knot. She crept back up to drink from his arms, harsh on his biceps, but delicate on his wrists, more kissing than biting, humming as he sighed. He jumped when she first lapped that pulse point. She nipped his hand sharply, warning him against fidgeting again. He soon relaxed under her teasing tenderness, loosening the flow, so it pooled on her tongue.

Blood filled Lenore’s senses. It made her dizzy. It made her high. Oxygen soared in her system. Arterial sweetness made her warm, venal bitterness made her restless, hungry for more. She kept smacking her lips and running her tongue obsessively over her teeth. She pulled herself straight and ran her hands around her neck, cooling herself, leaving smudges of blood from her stained fingertips. 

She caught her breath and looked down at Hector, his taste coating the inside of her mouth, clinging like honey. His brow was misty and his eyes were glassy. He ground his teeth on the rubber bar. He was clearly forcing himself through the pain. It must be singing through his body now, he was littered with bites, flecked red, like chilli bread. But, as she nestled back on his cock, she found him harder than pine. 

“Oh, Good Boy.” She smiled. “You’re enjoying this mouth on you, aren’t you?”

Hector sighed pleadingly.

“You’re a real mess, you know. It’s even more tempting than when you’re all fine and put together.” She stroked his abs. “This is you at your best, Hector.”

He rolled his hips, holding her eye. 

She moaned and tumbled forward onto his body and began to dance her teeth and tongue over his skin. “You’d do anything for me, wouldn’t you?”

Hector nodded. He kept rolling his hips, her pleasure rolling with it.

“You’d build for me and beg for me. And bleed for me.”

Another feverish nod, another roll of their bodies.

“Bleed for me, Boy.”

He whimpered. He shivered. She plunged her fangs into his shoulder, flooding her mouth with boiling blood. His thickness beneath her sent bolts of sensation into her clit that cantered out across her body, with every shocked thrust and surrendering squirm. She stopped telling him to stay still, the movement felt too good. 

She pinched his nipples and sawed her seat back and forth, twisting the pips for traction, summoning deeper, needy motions from him that rushed her vulva with pleasure. She gripped him between her thighs, pressed hard on his chest, and ground the peak of her sensitivity on the straining, slick tip of his cock. Hector growled in his throat, his confused eyes reeling then screwing shut. He trembled delightfully against her, his body stiffening like ice against his pulsing need for release. Pleasure flew around her flesh like starlings, every sensation intensified by the bright, hot blood captivating her consciousness. 

Hector snarled around the gag, panting furiously, inaudible words flowing out of him, followed by thwarted grunts of irritation. 

Lenore let out a low cackle. “What is it, Pet? Hurt too much? Or feel too good?”

Hector’s wrists twisted in the cuffs, chafing pink. His fine brows knotted. Wounds glistened on him, like rubies. 

She licked her teeth and raised off his cock, coolness tingling in her pounding, wet pussy and the small of her back. He gasped for air and dropped his head back heavily onto the glass, relaxing a little. She chuckled. 

She slipped off him and crept to kneel between his spread legs. His eyes snapped wide to her and his breathing instantly sped up again. She could hear his heart drumming, echoing off the smooth panes of glass and marble arching over them in the council room. She held his startled-doe gaze and prowled low to peek at him along the length of his body, ducking behind his standing cock. She stroked the thin mat of hair on his thigh, then pushed his knee to tilt, opening him wider. She ran her lips down the femoral artery, the sweetness mingling with the scent of his arousal, like salted caramel. She kissed less than an inch from the thrumming track. She bit into him like an apple, her deepest pierce yet.

Hector roared. The tendons in his neck jutted. His eyes filled with lightning. He jerked sharply, so her teeth slit him jaggedly. Lenore gripped above his knee, like a vice, and held him ruthlessly down, clamping him in her jaws and gulping down his blood like wine. It hurtled her senses. Metallic sweetness sloshed over her tongue, the toughness of his muscle inviting her bite irresistibly. He bucked against the pain. His resistance struck matches under her skin. She claimed him with her bite, made it so his moves to push her off hurt more than surrender. She sliced and sucked, holding his flashing, pleading gaze. Bruising bloomed on his skin. 

He stilled. 

She unhooked her fangs from the flushed, purpled wound and lapped the punctures, leaving his skin shining. She raised her head a little. Hector shuddered and panted, a drizzle of saliva trickling from the corner of his mouth. His eyes sparkled with desperation. She looked down his body, etched with tension and brushed with blood. Her gaze landed on his cock, solid as glass, the veins ink-dark, the tip dotted with diamonds. A different kind of hunger flowed into Lenore.

She kissed his bruise tenderly, then shifted on her knees. She curled her fingers around the base of his cock, so thick the ends of her long fingers barely touched. She wet her lip, and plunged her mouth down.

Hector cried out musically, as his cock filled her mouth. She was washed with the flavour of salt and smoke, savoury after his sugary blood. It cleansed her crowded taste buds. She indulged in him. She slid her lips up and down his shaft, swirling and coiling her tongue, moving her hand in the same, coaxing rhythm. She licked around his head and massaged his tip with the point of her tongue, smiling salaciously at the stream of muffled pleas that jetted from behind the gag. She dined with the same zeal as she had his wounds, the blood pumping in his cock, deliciously tempting. She sucked the tip with a greedy slurp, flooding him with sensitivity, then slid and spiralled her tongue around the swell. She purred at his rough, helpless moans, spilling from him, like a dam was breaking. 

The closeness of blood to the surface became too much. She popped her lips from his cock, kneading it in her grasp. She dove to his thigh and opened a new wound and quenched herself again. His moan came strangled and shaking. She comforted him with a long lick up his cock. She ducked to his other thigh and drank from the minor veins, still rhythmically pumping him. 

The mix of tastes was enchanting. Lenore darted between sweet, bitter and salt, artery, vein and his needy, thrumming cock. She was enveloped by his moans and the rustling of his body writhing on the parchment map. His murmurs and cries harmonised with themselves, chorused and cascaded in the echo of the chamber. It sounded as if a dozen Hectors were succumbing to her, as if one voice wasn’t enough to pour the pain and pleasure out of his body. She surged with lust. 

Her mouth still lavish on his cock and his thighs, she slipped her hand down and teased her clit. Her stomach fizzed at the feel of her own heat and swell. Her fingers slid in her juices, bringing her touch deep and filling her with resounding relief. The ache gave over to waves of pleasure. She matched the rhythm of her strokes with that of her sucking, sensation and taste hitting her in unison. She moaned and sighed and spread her fingers around her labia, cupping her vulva and flooding herself with pleasure. 

The light of the council chamber blurred blue and gold in Hector’s vision. His senses and his consciousness and his desires were spinning out of control. Everything was Lenore. When he breathed, there was only her perfume. When he moved, there was only her mouth. His heart galloped and his blood all went racing to her, like a pack of loyal hounds. 

Her bite was agony. She’d meant what she said, the pain was like nothing he’d ever known. Every time she broke his skin, he felt it everywhere. It burned and iced at once. It gripped him, mummified him in sensation. It possessed him, like demons. But the pain was her, so he craved it. If he hurt everywhere, then he felt her everywhere. Her mouth was focused on his cock and thighs, but he could somehow feel her kissing his lips and his face and his neck, rubbing his chest, stroking his arms, nibbling his fingertips. 

She was devouring him. 

He blinked the haze from his vision and rolled his eyes to look at his bicep, drawn up by his cheek. Twin crescent bite marks gleamed on it. It was strangely hypnotic, looking into the slit and seeing his own blood glare back at him. He felt exposed, more than naked, more than vulnerable. This was more than intimate. Blood flowed between them the way rivers crossed the borders of nations, with no heed for war or treaties. He and Lenore were bound together. She had taken him at his deepest point. He flexed his bicep and squeezed a trickle of blood from it, like cherry juice. He sighed. Her sucking on his thigh grew gentler. He was dizzy, drunk. He tried to anchor himself in the strain on his jaw and the unpleasant taste of rubber, but everything always tumbled back into Lenore, the centre of all his senses. Somewhere, he could hear a man moaning, but he didn’t know if it was him. The sound rose and fell, like waves breaking on the shore. He thought of Rhodes. He thought of Lenore rising like Aphrodite from a turquoise sea. He thought about the flow of water. He thought about the flow of his blood. His eyes fluttered. His breathing slowed.

Her tongue lashed his cock. Pleasure whipped him alert. He bucked in the restraints, making them ring shrilly. He gasped and almost choked on the wad of saliva in his mouth. Lenore’s devious chuckle slithered up his spine, thrilling and taunting. The parchment whispered, as she slid from between his legs and came on all fours over him, grinning down like a cat about to play with a mouse. She licked his lower lip. His face heated furiously. She rocked back and hovered her seat over his cock. 

His pulse rocketed. His skin misted with sweat. He tingled fiercely on the back of his neck and his nipples. His eyes fixed on the shining pink sapphire of her clit. His mouth watered. His cock ached, a pain somehow both duller and keener than the lingering stings of the bites. 

She grasped his cock, and guided him inside her, sinking down to take him deep. The full, comforting weight of her body dropped onto his pelvis. 

The pleasure was instant and enthralling. She was hot and wet and tight, clasping him with her body, holding him together as the rush of sensation in his torn flesh threatened to rip him to shreds. He groaned loudly, desperate to hold her in his hands. His bonds rattled, as he lurched instinctively for her and was pinned in place. 

He gazed up at her. She towered over him, the moonlight through the sweeping, shark-fin windows glimmering on her skin, making her look like carved marble. Her hair had tousled in its up-do, graceful, fiery curls bouncing by her sharp cheekbones. The black, leather harness embraced her body, like an artist had painted it lovingly on her skin. Her exquisitely sculpted figure was even more mesmerising from beneath her. Her thighs spread, large and powerful from this angle. The cups of her breasts, the pert points of her nipples, and the clean angles of her face all pulled his eyes to them mercilessly. She was beyond beautiful. She was angelic, descending on him to give him his calling. The interlace of gold caging the walls and converging on the domed ceiling framed her, like rays of divine light.

Across her body, stark on her pale skin, were smears and spots of his blood. It streaked across her mouth, and fell like Japanese maple on a snowy mountainside to adorn her breasts, belly, and forearms. It was monstrous. It was magnificent. She wore his life force like the latest fashion. No amount of mess tarnished her grandeur. She was his queen. His blood was nothing more than what he owed. He’d pay it a thousand times. 

Lenore stopped and suspended in the web of pleasure that spread through her body, as her core moulded to Hector’s cock. She gazed down at his awestruck expression with amused satisfaction. He looked entirely overcome, just how she liked him. Pinned to the table, forced spread, dizzy from blood loss and totally at her mercy; her flesh fluttered with anticipation. He always made it so easy to take her pleasure. He gave his body to it with endearing chivalry. 

She began to rock. She scooped her hips in a slow, soft rhythm, her fingertips falling to his nipples and teasing wickedly. He moaned low and joined her pace, his cock sliding and swelling inside her. She ground the pleasure from his body into hers, as vampiric in this as she was in biting. Her desire surged quickly, riding the high from feeding. She slid her hands to the base of his throat, leaned on it, and rolled her hips harder and faster. Hector choked, his eyes popping, gritting his teeth on the gag. He met her with short, sharp thrusts, hampered by the restraints and all the more urgent for it. 

“Mmm… Oh… Hector, you make as good a prey as a pet,” Lenore hissed through her teeth. “I don’t know which feels better inside me, your blood or your cock.”

Hector’s brow buckled. His muscles went round and rigid with the strain of matching her. 

“Your taste is fascinating,” she moaned on a long, twisting thrust. “It’s like every time you surrender another part of yourself, all it does is uncover a new layer of you for me to want.”

She watched with glee, as his mind liquified under her words. She could see it happening in the blowing of his pupils. 

“You really are my good boy.” Her voice cracked with need, as she clenched around him. “You give me so much pleasure, Pretty One. So, so much pleasure.”

Hector babbled uselessly around the gag, eyes shining. His abs creased, as he drove deeper into her. She pressed harder on his throat. He spluttered and writhed. The twisting inside her was maddening. She gripped him between her thighs and rode him hard, delighting in the anguished elation on his face. Spasms in his muscles opened the bites again. Subtle trails of blood trickled from his body onto the map spread beneath them. Lenore stared down at it. This vast terrain that she and her sisters had taken for themselves, plundered and punished, utterly conquered, utterly subjugated. She held this forge master down and drained him, utterly conquered, utterly subjugated. She ruled Styria and she ruled the Carpathians and she ruled the man who could summon armies from Hell. Blood flowed on the land. Blood flowed on her prey. She feasted on them both. They belonged to her. Everything did.

Hector stared at her with a worshipful zeal that made her high. Her mouth ached with hunger. 

She dived for his throat.

She flung herself forward, bucking backwards to pump the pleasure from his cock in her core, and sank her teeth into the smooth curve at the base of his neck. Hector howled around the gag, panting hoarsely and quickening his thrusts, as if forcing the pain into his need to pleasure her. She glugged down the gush of blood, one hand combing into his hair and clutching, one hugging his torso. She drank his blood, reeling in the taste. She fucked him forcefully, effervescing with the sensation. 

Their bodies pressed together, grinding on each other in the slick of blood smearing over their skin, the friction turning them scorching hot. The sounds of slapping, wet flesh and Hector’s wild groaning and the smacking of Lenore’s lips between her flurry of sighs crashed in the room and sang on the walls, as if they were inside a great bell. They moved together feverishly, Lenore clinging to Hector with her strong walls and vicious jaws. His ass pounded on the glass table, making them vibrate against each other. His shoulder blades squeaked on the smooth surface, as he snaked beneath her. 

A chaos of pleasure and hunger and lust filled Lenore. It streamed through her flesh and built and built, until the only thing anchoring her to earth was her desire for Hector’s body. She flew into his scent and his taste, the hot swell of his pounding cock, the rush of his moans, the feel of his hair in her fingers, the chafe of his hard body on hers. She took more and more from him, more blood, more pleasure, more power. 

More.

More.

More.

He broke.

With a stifled, guttural cry, he arched his back fiercely and came hard into her heat. The pulsing of his cock and the jet of his release sent a violent spasm through her flesh. She surfaced from his throat with a high wail of pleasure, blood spattering the map and the ends of his hair. Her climax avalanched through her, setting her belly and legs and heart and face and fingertips alight. She twisted like a python, flinching and shuddering, as if she was being electrocuted. Hector kept his spine arched, pressing close to her and rasping for breath in her ear. She clutched him tight and rode him down from the torrent.

They sank slowly back onto the parchment. 

For a long, echoing moment, they caught their breath, Hector’s chest rising and falling beneath her, as if she was on a raft at sea.

Quiet descended on them, the air warm and fragrant with blood and sex.

Lenore reached up lethargically and unbuckled Hector’s wrists and gag. He exhaled dramatically. He rotated his wrists, massaged his jaw, and ran his fingers through his hair. She settled back down onto his torso, laying her cheek on his bloodied chest. 

“Fucking… Christ…” Hector said eventually.

Lenore giggled, kissing over a bite mark. “Good Boy.”

Hector groaned low and curled his arms around her, his breath still coming a little short. He stroked her tousled hair.

“Was that what you were hoping for?” she murmured against his skin.

“That was…” He paused. “I don’t have words.”

“That’s alright.” Lenore smiled playfully. “Pets and prey are better silent.”

Hector chuckled through his nose and hugged her tighter. “Even when I’m telling you I belong to you?”

A happy bubble popped in Lenore’s stomach. “Maybe not always silent.” She raised her head, a fleck of blood on her cheek. “Now, my darling, let’s clean those wounds.”

Hector smiled. He slipped his hand from her hair, cupped her face, and ran his thumb over the smear on her lips. He kissed her, tasting his blood, the stinging in his skin hushed by the sweetness of pleasure. 

Lenore relaxed against his lips. His blood hummed beautifully in her body. His kiss made her float and his embrace kept her moored. Her pet. Her prey. Her energy. Her treasure.

Outside in the quiet night, snow began to fall.

**Author's Note:**

> Remember when you're getting kinky, keep it Safe (check your technique), Sane (check your frame of mind) and Consensual (check your partner). Basics of BDSM [here](https://www.annsummers.com/bondage/help-advice/guide-to-bondage.html). Guide on bondage [here](https://www.annsummers.com/bondage/help-advice/choosing-the-perfect-restraints.html). Guide on knife and blood play [here](https://www.submissiveguide.com/fundamentals/articles/diy-knife-blood-play). Have fun, ya heathens!


End file.
